


Blackadder: The Pureblood Years

by Ariana Deralte (ArianaDeralte), ArianaDeralte



Category: Harry Potter and Blackadder crossover
Genre: General, Parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-13
Updated: 2009-12-13
Packaged: 2017-10-04 10:10:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArianaDeralte/pseuds/Ariana%20Deralte, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArianaDeralte/pseuds/ArianaDeralte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Blackadder was a wizard? Edmund Blackadder has to deal with his servant Baldrick, an incompetent Minister Fudge, Voldemort, Azkaban, and an idiot named Percy Percy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Crosswords and Cockroaches

**Author's Note:**

> Taken as is from ff.net.

Edmund Blackadder, pureblood wizard and razor-tongued bastard, stalked through the corridors of the Ministry, muttering various imprecations at the world in general, and at the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge in particular. He could not believe the mess the man had gotten into this time.

He rounded a corner, intent on the Minister's office at the end of the corridor, and tripped rather spectacularly over a lump huddled against the wall. "Not again..." Edmund thought before he hit carpet with a resounding thud. After a quick look to see that no one was around, Edmund pulled himself up from the carpet, arranging his robes into some semblance of order.

"I have been cursed since the day I was born, by the great god of curses, Krutacius Kurzealot!"

"I shouldn't think so Mr. B. It was your mum who was curs-" Blackadder turned around, giving his full attention to the heap of rags he had tripped over.

"If I wanted an eyewitness account of my birth, Baldrick, I'd ask myself." Baldrick just stared at him and scratched his head.

"Don't do that Baldrick. You might kill those little vermin you use for brains. Dare I ask what you are doing in the ministry buildings?"

"Well-"

"Never mind. Just get out of here before someone mistakes you for a particularly nasty cross between a goblin and a house elf and decides to report you to the Ministry for Magical Misbreeding. On second thought, stay as long as you like, just don't mention you know me. All right?"

"Right. I may stay as long as I like and I don't know any Mr. Edmund Blackadder...But Mr. B! I've been a loyal servant of the Blackadders for generations."

"And haven't we regretted every moment of it. Just go home Baldrick."

"I can't sir." Edmund sighed.

"And why is that?"

"I lost the portkey Sir." A thought occurred to Edmund.

"This wouldn't happen to be your special portkey, would it?" he asked. Baldrick nodded. "And what did you eat today?" Baldrick smiled happily.

"A turnip. Quite a big one too. Special you might say."

"Special like a special portkey maybe?" Baldrick nodded happily and Edmund waited patiently for Baldrick to put two and two together. He gave up rather quickly when he realized that Baldrick had never managed that particular feat of mental agility. With a sigh, he considered the idea of bringing Baldrick with him to see Cornelius Fudge. He could cause incalculable damage if he was in Fudge's presence, but out here in the corridors, his enemies might use Baldrick for some nefarious purpose. Not that that wouldn't be a bad idea, but he didn't want it rebounding back on him.

"Come on Baldrick. Follow me, keep your head down and don't speak." He took a quill out of his robes and handed it to Baldrick. "Oh, and jam that up your nose a few times as a punishment for living." He strode down the corridor, followed by a preoccupied Baldrick.

Blackadder found Fudge at his usual occupation, doing the crossword puzzle in the Daily Prophet. This would not have been an unusual sight, if it hadn't been for the fact that it was the crossword from the January 23, 1988 issue of the Daily Prophet, and that he had been working on the same crossword since then.

"Ah! Come in Edmund. You wouldn't happen to know the name of the person who defeated You-Know-Who would you?"

"Harry Potter."

"You don't say?" He started filling in the blanks. "Well his name doesn't fit in the blank. Surely there must have been someone else?" Edmund wandered over to the desk, and looked over the crossword puzzle.

"Harry Potter doesn't have a 'g' in it. Nor does it have a 'u' or 'n'. Not to mention the double 'o'."

"Right. Right. Of course." Fudge pushed the crossword to one side. "What can I do for you Edmund?"

"Perhaps you could tell me why you told the Daily Prophet earlier that You-Know-Who had not returned?"

"That's because he hasn't returned. There is no proof." Fudge looked remarkably firm for someone who was usually such a dithering idiot. Edmund resisted the urge to call him one.

"With all due respect Minister. The Muggle-borns are disappearing at an alarming rate, not to mention the Dark Mark being seen over fifty times in the past week. It couldn't be more obvious that You-Know-Who was back unless he showed up outside the ministry and spray painted 'I am Lord Voldemort' in twenty-foot high neon green glowing letters."

"Don't say that name!" cried Fudge.

"Did he Mr. B?" Blackadder rounded on his idiot servant.

"Did he what?" he asked in a dangerous tone.

"Did he spray pain-" Blackadder took out his wand and transfigured Baldrick into a cockroach, than stepped on him. It was an insult to cockroaches around the world, but it was the best he could do in front of Fudge.

"I'm sorry Minister. What were you saying?" Fudge was staring at the crossword puzzle again.

"Hmm? Oh right. The official position of the ministry is that You-Know-Who has not returned."

"So there will be no resisting when he takes over then?"

"Well, no, but since he hasn't returned..."

"I'll take my leave then Minister." Fudge didn't even notice him leave. Edmund transfigured Baldrick back to his usual abnormal state, than headed angrily down the corridor.

"We're all going to die while that pimple of the wizarding world tries to figure out how to spell 'cauldron'!"

"Don't despair Mr. B. I have a cunning plan."

"You spent half the conversation as a cockroach Baldrick, and while I will admit that increased your cerebral matter a hundred fold, you have no hope of coming up with a cunning plan."

"But you see. All we need is a huge courgette and-"

"Shut up!"

"And a-" Edmund punched him.

"Let me explain something to you Baldrick. I could help Voldemort kill Harry Potter in front of Fudge and he still wouldn't admit that You-Know-Who was alive. He's too afraid of his own shadow to do anything." Baldrick shrugged.

"To bad you can't help Mr. Voldemort then. I'll bet he knows he's alive." Edmund turned to stare at Baldrick.

"I think you'll be spending time as a cockroach more often Baldrick."

Two months later...

Edmund Blackadder surreptitiously rubbed his newly applied Dark Mark, and joined the waiting circle of Death Eaters. He was sure that Lord Voldemort would win. It was only a matter of time. And when he did, Edmund Blackadder would be there to stab him in the back, and take the glory for himself.

* * *

Disclaimer: Blackadder isn't mine. If it were, there would be more than six episodes to a season…Harry Potter's world doesn't belong to me either.


	2. Masks and Morons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>             "Blackadder! Get out here!" hissed the cold voice of Lord Voldemort. Edmund stiffened in his place as a member of the circle of Death Eaters surrounding the Dark Lord. He was beginning to regret his choice of employment. Oh, he didn't mind the muggle torturing or the dark orgies. What was beginning to worry him was the alarming rate at which Voldemort went through his loyal followers. Only last week, Rosier had been disembowelled for making the Dark Lord's tea wrong. In some ways Edmund couldn't blame him. It was so hard to get a decent cup of tea these days.

            "Blackadder! Get out here!" hissed the cold voice of Lord Voldemort. Edmund stiffened in his place as a member of the circle of Death Eaters surrounding the Dark Lord. He was beginning to regret his choice of employment. Oh, he didn't mind the muggle torturing or the dark orgies. What was beginning to worry him was the alarming rate at which Voldemort went through his loyal followers. Only last week, Rosier had been disembowelled for making the Dark Lord's tea wrong. In some ways Edmund couldn't blame him. It was so hard to get a decent cup of tea these days.

            He walked hesitantly into the centre of the circle, trying not to shudder as the Dark Lord's red-eyes swept over him.

            "Blackadder," said Voldemort in a quiet, yet menacing tone. "Is this yours?" Two other Death Eaters threw a brown bundle to the ground in front of Edmund. He stifled a groan. The Fates had just dropped a load of dragon's dung on his plans - in the form of Baldrick to be precise. With Baldrick here, his chances of survival went down from possible to not-bloody-likely. His only choice was to straight out lie.

            "No, my Lord. I've never seen him before in my life," he said confidently, glad that he was wearing a mask.

            "Mr. B! You saw me at dinner. You said I was a festering pile of armadillo bile!"

            "I had dinner at the Ministry, my Lord," said Blackadder hastily. He willed Baldrick to remain silent. The pile of excrement moved, and Baldrick stood up. Edmund stared in a sort of fascinated horror.

            There was a mask on Baldrick's face. As masks went, it would have won the World's Worst Mask Award three times running if the judges hadn't already vomited all over their shoes at the sight. Behind him, Edmund could hear a few Death Eaters doing just that. The turnip really had been a bit much.

            "Tell him what you told me," commanded Voldemort. Edmund could just see Baldrick's eyes inside the mask blinking in puzzlement.

            "I don't really think this is necessary my Lord," said Edmund quickly. "He's obviously insane. One curse and we'll be rid of him. I volunteer, no, I insist on the duty." His voice was very hard.

            "Silence, Blackadder," said the Dark Lord.

            "You see Mr. B," said Baldrick, finally remembering how to speak. "You told me that anyone could be a Breath Eater. All they needed was a funny mask and a robe." Blackadder exploded.

            "It's Death Eater, you mongoose-brained moron! Do I have to inscribe it in your forehead with a dull knife?" He paused, and the words he had just said caught up with his brain.

            "So you do know him," said Voldemort mildly. Edmund dared to look at the Dark Lord. He was smiling slightly. "It so happens Blackadder that I have a mission that needs performing. Young Percy here will be in charge." Blackadder's eyes left the Dark Lord and travelled unwillingly to a tall, ungainly Death Eater standing to Edmund's left. You could see the stupid expression on Percy's face quite clearly because the nitwit still hadn't gotten the hang of putting the mask on the _front_ of his head.

            Percy Percy the Fifth was from an old wizarding family. An old wizarding family so full of rampant inbreeding and idiocy that it was a wonder they hadn't breed themselves into extinction. Of course, there was the argument that extinction was better than the current example of the Percy line.

            "You and Percy will be infiltrating the Ministry for me. Percy knows the details." Voldemort glanced down at Baldrick. "Take this thing with you," he said in disgust. He gestured and all the Death Eaters apparated away, followed shortly by the Dark Lord.

            "Did you hear that Mr. B? He said I was a thing!" said Baldrick happily. Blackadder growled in frustration.

            "Take off that moronic mask!" he said, snatching it off of Baldrick's head, than dropped in quickly for fear of contamination.

            "Ye gads!" exclaimed Percy, who had unfortunately remembered to stay behind. "Maybe he should put it back on," he said nervously. He was turning a fairly lovely shade of green.

            "But then I couldn't do this," said Blackadder before punching Baldrick in the face. It was so much more satisfying than a curse.

            "Here now," said Percy. "That was uncalled for!" Edmund turned around and punched the fool.

            "So was that," said Blackadder smiling in satisfaction. "Now tell me the details of this mission." They would end up in Azkaban or at the receiving end of a brilliant green light if he left the mission in the hands of this dunderhead.

            "We're to go to the Ministry and put this letter on the desk of the Minister of Magic," Percy practically blubbered. He was crumpling the letter he had taken out of his pocket. Edmund snatched it and started to open it, but then he considered what he would do if he ever sent a letter to the Minister and placed it carefully back in Percy's trembling hands.

            "Alright. Then we'll apparate to the entrance to the Ministry and make our way to his office," said Edmund. At this time of night, Fudge was probably asleep at his desk, drooling over the crossword. The fool had yet to discover the pot of floo powder that was kept conveniently next to the fireplace in there. It would have been nice if they could floo into there as well, but the fireplace in the office only went one way.

            With a wave of his wand, Edmund transfigured his and Percy's Death Eater robes into plain black robes. There was nothing he could do for Baldrick.

            He took Baldrick with him when he apparated, then looked around for Percy. Years of living with Baldrick had inured him against even the most ghastly sights, which was why he was able to calmly say, "Percy, apparate back to the meeting place and this time bring your robes with you."

            Edmund stopped in frustration. He threw out his arm to encompass the area they were in. "What do you see?" he asked Baldrick and Percy. Percy looked excited.

            "Is this like one of those games where you make shapes out of things like clouds?" He peered down the corridor. "I can see a rabbit and a white armadillo and their mating-"

            "_Silencio_," said Blackadder and gestured with his wand. Percy seemed to think it was all a misunderstanding and kept gesturing at him. Edmund watched the idiot point carefully at his throat, then mouth a few words at him, then start over again.

            "I think Percy wants to be strangled Baldrick. Shall we oblige him?"

            "It looks like a bland white corridor, Sir," said Baldrick. He was staring hard at their surroundings. Blackadder forgot about Percy.

            "Very good, Baldrick. It seems that one brain cell in your head finally fired. Now what is so special about this corridor?" Baldrick looked blankly at him.

             "It's a turnip?" Edmund shook his head.

            "No, you feeble-minded fool! It's exactly the same as every other corridor we've passed through since we've been here! There must be a maze charm on the Ministry to prevent easy access after a certain point. I should have known," Edmund said to himself. A hand tapped him on the shoulder. He looked over to see Percy. Just what he needed.

            "Never touch me again," he warned. "Now what do you want?" Percy held up two fingers. "Two words?" Percy nodded and smiled. He turned around and pointed towards his arse. "Oh gawd…Arse? No. Derriere? No. Behind?" Percy nodded vigorously. "Alright. Word two." Percy pointed at him. "Me? Behind me?" There was a sinking sensation in Edmund's chest as he turned around.

            A young wizard with blazing red hair and a serious expression was pointing his wand directly at them. There were dark shadows under his eyes, probably from working this late, but his wand hand hardly trembled. He had apparently been waiting politely for them to finish their game before speaking.

            "You're intruders aren't you?" asked the young wizard.

            "No. We were out for a stroll and got lost," growled Blackadder. The wizard looked uncertain.

            "You better come back to my office while I call this in," he said, and gestured for them to precede him down a corridor they hadn't noticed before. Before he moved, Edmund surreptitiously took the silence spell off of Percy who was still standing behind him. The idiot's blithering might come in handy later on.

            "I don't suppose you could just forget you saw us and go back to your mountains of paperwork," said Blackadder desperately. The red-haired wizard didn't even answer him. They reached his office all too soon and they all crowded in a room barely the size of a broom cupboard. Blackadder read the name placard on the desk. Percy Weasley.  

            "Look, Percy," began Edmund.

            "Yes?" said Percy Percy.

            "Yes?" said Percy Weasley. Edmund glared at Percy Percy. He turned to glare at Baldrick as well, on the general principle that the turnip lover would eventually do something wrong.

            "Not you Percy, the other Percy!" Edmund exclaimed. Percy the Death Eater blinked owlishly at him.

            "But I'm Percy," he protested in the slow voice of someone who was dealing with the hardest arthimancy problem in their life.

            Edmund spoke slowly in the hopes that his dim witted companion would understand. "Percy Percy," he gestured towards the red-haired wizard. "This is Percy Weasley."

            "Oh come now, Edmund. You can't fool me. He doesn't look anything like me."

            "That's it!" yelled Blackadder. He turned to Percy Weasley. "Kill me now!" he demanded.

            "What?" stammered the other wizard. Edmund reached out and took the wizard's wand.

            "You point this at my head," he demonstrated by pointing it at Weasley's head. "And then you say _avada__ k_-" he stopped. He had the other's wand now didn't he? Weasley was giving him a horrified look. "_Stupefy_," he said, than used his wand to tie up the unconscious wizard before shoving him under his own desk. With luck, no one would notice Weasley was missing for, oh, a century. Now, to finish their mission.

            He pulled up the directory that he knew was in every office and used it to decipher the complex maze charm on the Ministry's corridors after hours. After only one wrong turn, they were able to enter the Minister's Office. They were lucky that Fudge wasn't there. Edmund quickly looked the Fudge's desk over and snorted when he spotted the Minister's perpetual crossword puzzle. With a malicious grin, he picked it up and unceremoniously threw it in the fire.

            "The letter, Percy," he demanded. Percy looked puzzled.

            "The letter?" In one move, Blackadder had Percy by the front of his robes and up against one wall.

            "If you tell me you've forgotten it, I'll be leaving your desecrated dung-hill of a corpse here as a new letter to Fudge," he hissed. Percy looked desperately at him.

            "I haven't forgotten it?" he said brightly. Blackadder snarled wordlessly. He was pulling out his wand to remove the last Percy heir from existence when the door to the Minister's Office burst open.

            "_Petrificus__ totalus_," shouted the first wizard through the door. This left Edmund stiff as a board on the floor, which is why he wasn't even able to groan when he saw Mr. Percy Weasley walk through the door and identify them as his assailants. The Aurors set about arresting them.

            The rarely used optimistic part of Edmund's brain kicked in as they were levitating him out. At least he wouldn't have to face Voldemort for failing the mission.

            "Did you hear that Mr. B?" exclaimed Baldrick happily. He was meekly following the Aurors out of the room. Percy was happily chatting with a bewildered Percy Weasley, insisting they must be brothers, even as the Aurors restrained him.

"We're going to Azkaban!" said Baldrick, a big smile on his face.

_Oh gawd…_

All reviews will go toward Baldrick's turnip fund. Will I write a sequel? Probably…


	3. Bars and Basilisks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3: Bars and Basilisks

Chapter 3: Bars and Basilisks

A/N: Thanks to my beta reader, Meril:)

* * *

"Row, row, row your boat."

"Shut up, Baldrick."

"Gently down the stream."

"Baldrick, if you don't shut up I'm going to shove a small carbuncle down your throat," said Edmund wearily. He didn't like boats, and the feeling seemed to be mutual judging by the number of times he had emptied his stomach. It didn't help that the boat was taking them to Azkaban.

"But my mum used to sing it to me," protested Baldrick.

"Your mum had the voice of a horse and the body of one as well. The only thing she could have sung properly was a vow of silence. Compared to you though, she was the seven times winner of the worlds most angelic singer award." Edmund could have sworn that his stomach must be empty, but as the nausea rose, he leant over the side and once again deposited the contents of his stomach into the churning waters.

"Buck up, Eddy-boy!" called Auror Flashheart from the other boat.

Edmund put all his malice into sending a glare at the Auror – and his prisoner, Percy Percy, for good measure. He had hoped that after leaving Hogwarts he would never have to see Flashheart again.

It was a pity that he hadn't mastered the art of projectile vomiting. The good Auror would have been the first person he targeted. He watched in misery as Flashheart manoeuvred his boat closer.

"Shouldn't have burnt the crossword, Blacky. Fudge might have gone easy on you if you hadn't," said Flashheart.

"Ah, yes. That's why we're all being sent to Azkaban for "Malignant Word Puzzle Abuse". Someday, you'll have to show me the law that covers that one." The boats bumped roughly against the shore. Edmund made sure to trample over Baldrick on his scramble to get to solid land. A few deep breaths later and his stomach had returned to normal.

He turned to watch the other three leave the boats. As soon as their feet touched the island, their expressions changed. Baldrick started staring at the ground and mumbling something about "his turnip".

Percy moaned in despair. "I can feel them even now. Stealing my thoughts and memories. I will never be happy again!" He began sobbing like a girl. Even Flashheart looked a bit less perky than usual, if only for a moment.

Edmund regarded them curiously. He felt nothing.

Flashheart came up and clapped him on the shoulder, just like he used to do in school, only without the obligatory wedgie afterwards. "You're a brave bloke, not letting the Dementors get to you."

Edmund slipped out from under Flashheart's arm, grimacing in distaste. He was really beginning to wonder about the proclivity of men of Flashheart's sort for touching other men. "It's hardly surprising considering I've spent my entire life with Baldrick. I've never had a happy moment in my life."

No, wait, there had been that one time when he had charmed a Muggle lawn machine to keep Baldrick out of the house. He had had the whole night to himself... Too late he felt the Dementors approach as they sucked the memory out of him.

Oh well.

Flashheart strode cockily up to the creatures and demanded that they let him through to place the new prisoners. The Dementors nodded their hoods like the ghostly wraiths they were, and parted to allow them through. Baldrick attempted to huddle against Edmund as they walked past, but a few kicks in the shins rid his servant of that notion.

"I don't come here that often, Blacky," said Flashheart conversationally as he led them through the dank corridors of Azkaban, keeping well behind the gliding Dementors. "Wouldn't want the female prisoners to riot. Woof! Woof!" He winked and made some sort of exaggerated motion with his hips.

"You make my heart riot!" came a yell from the cell they were passing. Flashheart perked up, and sauntered over to the cell door. Edmund groaned and stopped, cuffing Baldrick and a sniffling Percy when they bumped into him.

A woman's face peered through the barred window. Underneath her matted black hair and years of grime, Edmund could see that she was quite beautiful, but the madness in her eyes would have made Mad Martin, the completely off his rocker Muggle-lover, pause. He doubted Flashheart even noticed.

"Mrs. Lestrange," said Flashheart gallantly. "I can give you memories so happy not even the Dementors can take them away!" He winked at her.

She smiled lavisciously at him. "But can you..." She trailed off and Flashheart leant in to hear the rest of her words. For a moment, Edmund fancied he saw Flashheart turn red, but then the man straightened.

"This lion won't just make you roar, I'll make you sing!" He added in a few hip thrusts to make his point.

Edmund rolled his eyes. The number of times he had heard Flashheart compare his sexual prowess to that of his house's mascot, the lion, during their school years was beyond count.

"You mean he mates quickly and roughly with a few females while leaving the strongest of them to make the decisions?" asked Percy, innocently puzzled.

Flashheart ignored the comment. He was still flirting gamely with Mrs. Lestrange. "Just let me get rid of these sods, sweetcheeks, then you and me will do the jail house rock! Woof!"

"Oh yes!" agreed Mrs. Lestrange.

Their new cell was across the corridor, and they were herded inside. Flashheart walked around the cell, examining the three cots and nodding his approval of the facilities, which consisted of a hole in the floor.

"Looks quite cosy. Much like those Slytherin dungeons, eh?"

"I'd prefer something with a window, and without these two idiots," said Edmund quickly before the Dementors sucked the happy idea out of him.

"No can do, Eddy-boy. We're getting overcrowded with all you idiot Death Eaters being caught."

Something snapped inside Edmund. He took Flashheart's arm and started leading him out of the cell. "Oh, we deliberately let ourselves be caught so we could take over Azkaban from the inside and return it to the Dark Lord. Did you know the Dementors are voyeurs? Have a _nice_ day." He pushed the man out of the cell and slammed the door closed. "Wanker."

Edmund surveyed their pitiful cell, taking in the weeping Percy and Baldrick sitting on a cot with a stupid look on his face. No correction, Baldrick's face was the definition of a stupid look.

"Well, that's that then. Doomed to life in Azkaban. No way out, and surrounded by some of the greatest idiots known to man." Well, the second greatest idiots. Fudge was back at the Ministry after all.

"I have a cunning plan, sir," said Baldrick eagerly.

Blackadder rolled his eyes. "Do you even know what cunning _means_, Baldrick?"

"I thought it was when a man..." began Baldrick.

Edmund had a quick and fatal vision of what his incompetent servant was going to say.

"Never mind," Blackadder said hastily. "Tell me your "cunning" plan." It would provide a moment of entertainment and happiness that would perhaps send the Dementors swooping down to take him out of his misery.

Baldrick took something out of his pocket and showed it to Edmund. Cradled in his dirty hand was a small, white egg.

"I have this," said Baldrick triumphantly.

Blackadder snatched it up and examined it closely.

"I hate to disappoint you. No, on second thought, I love to disappoint you, but this is a simple hen's egg. Not a cunning plan."

Baldrick shook his head. "It's not. Fellow I got it off of said it was a rooster's egg." He sounded absurdly proud of himself.

"Roosters don't lay eggs, and I will not explain the facts of life to you again." The first seventeen times had been enough.

Percy Percy let out a sob from the corner.

"Shut up, Percy," said Edmund and Baldrick together.

"It's a magical egg. You put it under a toad and let it hatch, and it becomes a Basilisk. Then we use the Basilisk to slip through the bars and kill the Dementors and escape," said Baldrick.

"A magnificent plan, except for one tiny flaw. Unless Percy's hiding one under his robes, we don't have a toad."

Percy leapt up and began frantically patting at his clothing looking for a toad. Across the way, Mrs. Lestrange catcalled at him to take it all off. Edmund supposed Flashheart had decided to take the easy way out and leave.

Such a pity about the toad. Other than that, the plan did have merit. The image of Percy dropping dead from looking it in the eyes of the Basilisk was quite entertaining. If only toads were native to Azkaban...

He glanced around their tiny cell in the vain hope that a toad had miraculously appeared.

Baldrick was hunched up in the corner, his hand poised to capture a giant beetle that was making its way across the floor. His tongue was hanging out he was concentrating so hard. Edmund tilted his head and looked at his much maligned servant. Crouched like that, with his tongue out and ready to eat a bug. There was one thing that Edmund was reminded of.

"Baldrick!" he called.

Baldrick looked up and the beetle skittered away to freedom.

"That was supper, sir," said Baldrick reproachfully.

Blackadder sidestepped the still flailing Percy, and went to carefully place the egg in a corner of their cell.

"Come over here, Baldrick, and sit down."

* * *

Over two weeks later, Baldrick started claiming that his 'baby' was moving.

"It had better be," Edmund growled. He had already decided to commit suicide days ago, but he wanted to kill his companions before he did so. Every time he thought of it, the Dementors would steal his happy thoughts on the matter.

"Oh woe!" moaned Percy Percy from his cot.

"Shut up, Percy!" said Blackadder and Baldrick.

"Let's see," Edmund said, motioning for Baldrick to move from his corner. They both crouched down to stare at the egg which was indeed rocking slightly.

"Come on, luvely. You can do it. Mummy's here now!" crooned Baldrick.

"Are you trying to encourage it not to come out?" asked Blackadder, making a face. Baldrick gave him a confused look.

A small crack appeared in the egg a few minutes later, the rocking having increased to a frenetic pace. All of them watched in silence, Percy Percy having actually stopped sobbing for a moment to witness the birth. In one smooth motion, the head broke through the shell, and Blackadder averted his eyes, unwilling to be the Basilisk's first victim.

"Oh," gasped Baldrick. "She's so beautiful. I didn't know! So tiny and fluffy!"

Edmund's eyes flew open, as he stared at the form nestled in Baldrick's hands. It was, as he should have expected, a fluffy, white chick, pecking half heartedly at its "mothers" fingers. Blackadder groaned, then went to bang his head against the cell wall in frustration. He changed his mind at the last moment and went to bang Percy's head against the wall instead; privately noting he would have a good chicken dinner in a month if nothing else.

He was stopped in his entertainment by a voice from outside the cell. "Oh, Edmund, luv!"

"What?" he asked. It sounded like Lestrange again. If she asked one of them to strip one more time, he was going to train the chicken in assassination and make her its first target.

"I'd prefer if you didn't kill Percy Percy. My lord requests his presence."

"Oh? And how does _your lord_ request his presence? Has he learnt the secret Dementor hand signals?"

She laughed. A long low laugh that sounded different than her usual insane cackles. "He did better. He learnt their price! All the Death Eaters are free and we shall return to our rightful place at his side!"

"Oh really?" Edmund let go of Percy to walk over to the door. He could indeed see Lestrange standing right outside, wand and key in her hand. "Let us out then, and we shall rejoin him."

She shook her head while smiling at him. "Not you. You sold us out, Edmund. The Dark Lord is... displeased with you."

"I did not!" Edmund protested. There had been no opportunity for him to do so.

"You told that _auror_ that we had allowed ourselves to be caught so that we could take over from the inside!"

"But – I didn't – It wasn't meant to be taken that way!"

"You nearly destroyed our plan!" she screamed. "I heard you!"

Blackadder lost his temper. "It was a jest. How was I to know that Voldemort would follow such a moronic plan?"

"Are you calling our Lord a moron?"

Edmund hesitated. "No. Never." He would prefer to call him a nit brained nincompoop with a Napoleonic complex and horrible taste in symbolism.

She smiled again, and he shuddered. "Good. Percy Percy is leaving with us. Our Lord still has some use for him. You are no longer useful. I should kill you, but I think I will leave you here with your monkey. You will die a slow and painful death."

Not if he could help it, Edmund vowed grimly to himself. He was mostly silent through the rest of the proceedings, following Lestrange around at a distance, hoping to have the opportunity to steal her wand. It never came.

The Death Eaters left in the remaining boats with the Dementors following close behind. Blackadder had pushed Baldrick into the arms of one, realising it was his last chance to get rid of his servant, but the Dementor had taken one taste of Baldrick's soul, then promptly fled. If Dementors could be sick, Edmund was sure it would have been choking in its own vomit. There were no other prisoners left on the desolate island, the others having been given the choice of joining Voldemort, or having their heads bashed in.

Blackadder sat down heavily on the jagged rocks that lined the shore. Baldrick sat next to him.

"Well, Mr. B. It's just you and me and Sally."

Edmund shuddered. If there was something worse than dying in the presence of Baldrick, it was dying in the presence of a chicken named Sally. At least he could eat the chicken when he got hungry. Eating Baldrick was asking for food poisoning.

Of course, he was hoping something he hadn't dared mention in the presence of that crazy bint. Namely, that the Aurors would show up eventually to investigate where all the prisoners and guards had gotten to.

"Cheer up, Mr. B. It–"

"If you say "it could be worse", Baldrick, I'll stake you out on the beach here for the crabs to devour."

For once, Baldrick shut up, and they sat there in silence, with only the soft chirping of Sally and the sound of the waves to keep them company.

* * *

Epilogue

A few hours later, they watched curiously as a boat approached. Mrs. Lestrange was in the front while her husband was rowing.

"I don't suppose you've come back to tell us all is forgiven?" asked Blackadder.

Lestrange smiled her insane smile. "I've missed you, Edmund. You were something handsome to look at for the past few months."

He was taken off guard by the flattery. "You were certainly a sight, yourself," he responded, as hope began to grow.

She laughed. "Just kidding, luv. Our Lord commands your death." She pointed her wand. "_Avada kedavra_!"

The END

A/N: Before anyone flames me about the ending, I'd like to remind you that Blackadder series only end one of two ways, and it would have been near impossible to make a wizard King of Britain:P Reviews appreciated.


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